Cherry Wine
by McTuckerAddict
Summary: Kenny doesn't know what he was thinking when he agreed to be Craig's roommate. They'd known each other since they were young kids. They actually got along quite well. Craig was a decent guy. Kenny really thought it might be a good idea at the time, thought that Craig would make a pretty decent roommate in the long run. He has never been more wrong in his entire goddamn life.


Cherry Wine

Chapter 1

Chapter Track: Back to Black by Amy Winehouse

Kenny doesn't know what he was thinking when he agreed to be Craig's roommate. Sure, they'd known each other since they were young kids, and they were sort of friends all through school. They never had any major problems with each other specifically- their friend groups clashed a lot, but the two of them had never had any alterations or anything. They actually got along quite well, when it came down to it. And he knew that Craig didn't get along well with Stan in particular, but it's not like Stan will always be at the dorm or something; he's going to UCLA, which is far from Colorado. Plus, Kenny knew that Craig was fairly clean and cordial overall, unless someone pissed him off.

Tweek, Craig's boyfriend, was pretty cool too. Nervous, sure, but cool nonetheless; he's fun to talk to, he knows how to make a great cup of coffee, he likes going to plays and watching movies and stuff. And it's not like Craig doesn't know how to keep Tweek calm and stuff. They're not overly couple-y, not in your face about everything.

He really thought it might be a good idea at the time, thought that Craig would make a pretty decent roommate in the long run.

He has never been so wrong in his entire life.

Kenny wakes up in a startled haze when his phone's alarm screams at him from under his pillow, his eyes opening against the harsh light shining in through his uncovered window. God, that's the last time he leaves the blinds open to "look at the stars." He's such an idiot when he's drunk- and last night he was _tequila_ drunk, too. That's the worst goddamn kind, in his book. For a reason unbeknownst to him, it makes him want to strip and dance on tabletops. Whatever. It tastes good and goes down easy enough. Kenny groans, pressing the heel of his hand to his forehead. _Too easy_. He thinks, stumbling out of bed and into the adjoining bathroom. He has a class in a half hour across campus, and he doesn't want to be late.

Thankfully, he hasn't been late to any class yet and it's already the beginning of October. If he's late too many times it'll be counted as an absence, and he doesn't have many of those to spare, either. Staying on the track team and the cross country team means keeping his GPA up, and to keep his GPA in an acceptable range he has to be in class. He's not like Kyle, who can do whatever he wants whenever he wants to and still have a 4.0; Kyle has always been like that, and it angers Kenny to no end. It's a miracle that Kenny was even accepted here, to University of Denver, and even more of a miracle that he was granted a full ride on a cross country scholarship. He wouldn't really have been able to go to college without a scholarship, as his parents wouldn't have given him any worthwhile financial aid. He had to do it himself.

He's not going to let it go to shit because he couldn't handle his tequila.

Twisting the knob on the wall of the little shower stall, he brushes his teeth quickly while he waits for the water to warm up, leaving his clothes in a pile beside the door. He scrubs the hazy memories of last night off of his skin under the stream of burning water, scratching at his scalp and trying not to fall back asleep. A vague memory surfaces of a girl with pink hair and a tongue piercing, then him falling when he was struggling up the stairs to his room; that might account for the bump he finds on the back of his head and the scrape that's oozing dried blood on his knee. He should really be more careful. God only knows why he didn't want to take the elevator all the way up to his seventh floor dorm. He steps out of the shower in minutes and dries off, dressing in a worn out pair of jeans and an old band t-shirt before wandering out of his bedroom.

Craig is sitting on the couch in the tiny living area that separates their bedrooms, flicking through the channels on the tv and drinking coffee out of a mug printed with the word _covfefe_ in chunky black lettering. Kenny rolls his eyes.

"Someone finally rose from the dead, I see." Craig mutters, not bothering to look up from the television. Kenny scoffs; he has no idea how true that actually is, and Kenny's not going to try and explain it to him.

He knows how well that conversation always goes.

"Yeah, yeah. Hilarious." He says back, digging around in the fridge for the apple juice. He grabs the bottle from the back and sets it on the counter, searching next for the box of instant oatmeal he keeps specifically for days like today. He doesn't want to eat anything too heavy because puking his guts up in the middle of class has never been on his agenda, but he knows he'll pass out if he doesn't eat anything before practice.

Needless to say, waking up with a wicked hangover is not a rare occurrence for him. Especially lately.

"What're you watching?" Kenny asks Craig as he puts a bowl in the microwave, leaning on the counter. Craig shrugs, rubbing a hand through his hair. Kenny vaguely questions where his hat is until he spots it on the arm of the couch, right next to where Craig has his feet up. God, he always looks so good without his hat on. Kenny wonders why he doesn't leave it off more often.

The microwave dings and Kenny snaps out of it, pouring himself a glass of apple juice and grabbing his food before walking over to the couch.

"There's nothing good on right now." Craig says, rolling his eyes. Kenny notices that there's chocolate milk in the mug instead of coffee, but for whatever reason it doesn't strike him as odd. Well, odd enough to question it, at least. Craig does a lot of weird shit sometimes.

"There's never anything good on at the crack of dawn." Kenny answers, knocking Craig's feet out of the way. Craig scowls at him for a split second before readjusting, draping his arm over the back of the couch and settling back down. Kenny sets his oatmeal on his lap and takes a sip of his juice, scanning through the tv guide on screen.

"It's, like, 9:30, Kenny." Craig says, glancing over. "It's not really the crack of dawn." Kenny rolls his eyes. Craig always wakes up early, even if he doesn't have a class. He says it makes him feel like an adult, or it lets him wake up and "have a day" before he has to go to class or whatever. Kenny's never understood that, but to each their own. He's acutely aware of Craig's presence beside him, noticing the dip of the couch and the methodic hum of Craig's breathing and the soft clicking of the buttons on the remote. He deliberately looks down at his bowl, stirring its contents around with his spoon.

In all honesty, he doesn't know when he actually started liking Craig. He's always thought he was attractive, especially for someone from South Park. Craig was always pretty independent and outspoken, but still cool and laid back. He was never preachy about the things he cared about, like Wendy, or too hot-headed when things got heated, like Kyle. He was pretty funny, too, if you stuck around long enough to see it. And he came from a broken home, like Kenny. Most families in South Park were broken, but no one would dare say they had it worse than the Tuckers or the McCormicks. They had a lot in common. But Kenny was always able to ignore it, able to keep himself at bay because of Tweek.

Can he ask why the fuck Tweek has to be so awesome?

Kenny wouldn't have a problem with liking Craig if Tweek was a dick or something, or if Craig and him weren't so actively _in love_. They try to talk every day if they can't see each other, they have a set date night every week that works with their schedules, Craig goes to the restaurant that Tweek works, Tweek visits Craig at the daycare he works at on campus, ect., ect. He wrinkles his nose; he doesn't like thinking like that. It makes him feel… weird. Like he's back in South Park, thirteen years old and sweaty and greasy and smelly, trying to figure out if he likes guys or girls or both. It makes him feel like an awkward little kid again, and he hates feeling like that. If he thinks hard enough it's probably because of Craig that he ever realized that he liked guys at all. It set off a spiral of looking at the guys instead of the girls in places like movies and porn, and it made him really confused.

He never knew there was anything other than gay or straight until high school, and it made him feel wrong for so long. In his house there never _was_ anything other than gay or straight, and being gay was the wrong option. Then Stan came out as bi to all of them and he looked into all of that, all of the other options; pansexual seemed to fit him the most, so that's what he's been ever since. His parents didn't want him hanging around Stan anymore, saying that he was a bad influence and a sin. All it took was for him to say that he wasn't straight either and he became the devil child overnight. Thank god for Karen and Kevin, because Kenny doesn't think he would have survived long enough to get to college without them. He and his parents fought over it constantly. He decided to just say fuck it to their faces, then he blew Stan in the back of the Marsh's subaru that summer.

Needless to say, he spent that summer trying his best to stay out of his parent's way a lot of the time. That's actually when he and Stan got as close as they are now, because Kenny would always go over to the Marsh's house to spend the night if things got too rocky at home.

And it was all because he thought that Craig Tucker looked cute with his shirt off. But he was always able to keep himself occupied, never really admitting to himself that he actually did have feelings for Craig. At least, he was able to deny it until this year, because they're alone together. Often. Being alone with Craig let Kenny see other sides of him, sides that he guessed only Tweek really saw. Like how he still watches the extremely rare reruns of Red Racer, that he actually has the full series on VHS. Or how he has a collection of funny socks that he wears on days he's feeling shitty because he claims that it makes those days easier to get through, because "at least I was wearing my favorite socks." Or how much he loves Star Wars and Star Trek, but how much he favors Star Wars; he has this hideous R2D2 sweater that his sister got him, but he doesn't let her know that he wears it all the time. Or he listens to quieter and instrumental music because it keeps him calm, and when he's really pissed he listens to Billie Holiday and Frank Sinatra. Or his secret obsession with the Harry Potter book series- NOT the movies; they were shit compared to the books, according to his incorrect opinion. He was the one who got Kenny into it, like really into it. According to Craig, Kenny is a gryffindor. When he took the test on the official website thing, he was right. Of course he was right. (His patronus is a west highland terrier, his wand is redwood with a phoenix feather core and his Ilvermorny house is Wampus. Craig made him do all of the quizzes)

"Hey, The Prisoner of Azkaban is on." Kenny comments, knowing that Craig hates that movie the most out of all of them. Craig shoots him a look, his eyebrows high on his forehead as he deliberately clicks away from it. Kenny laughs when Craig chooses The Powerpuff Girls instead, rolling his eyes and standing as the music starts to play. He has to get to class soon, cause he likes to get his favorite seat by the windows. Unfortunately, it's everyone else's favorite seat too.

"What are you doing today?" Kenny asks as he ties his sneakers by the front door, craning his neck to see around the bend.

"Nothing really." Craig answers, not bothering to look back at Kenny. "I've got a class at eleven and work until seven thirty, then Tweek wanted to meet up for dinner." His head pops out suddenly from around the bend and he pokes a finger in Kenny's direction, narrowing his eyes in what Kenny thinks is supposed to be a menacing way; Kenny has always been immune to Craig's angry glares. "It's your turn to clean the kitchen, asshole, so i expect it to be nice when i come back."

"Can i get a time? Just so i know when to start."

"Kenny." Craig warns, his voice firm. Kenny laughs, waving the raven off as he stands and shoulders his backpack.

"Don't get your panties in a bunch, mom, it'll be done."

"I can wear my panties however i damn well please." Craig retorts, putting his feet back on the arm of the couch as he leans back. Kenny scoffs through his nose and opens the door, nearly jumping when he sees Tweek standing there. He's holding a tray of drinks in one hand and his other is raised in a fist, ready to knock on the door. A small smile breaks over his face and he waves, letting his free hand fall to rest on his messenger bag.

"Good! I-I caught you before you left." He says, walking past him to put his bag and the coffees on the counter. Tweek isn't usually here so early. _Mornings are usually for Kenny, for him to have Craig to himself for a little while_. As Tweek scans through the cups, Kenny looks over at Craig on the couch in confusion. That doesn't help much, as Craig doesn't seem surprised when he saunters over and accepts one of the to-gos, walking back to the couch and patting the spot beside him. Ah. So that's why there wasn't coffee in his mug.

"Here. I figured you'd w-want one after last night." Tweek explains, holding it out to Kenny before joining Craig on the couch. Kenny can already smell the shot of hazelnut through the cup, and he instantly knows that Tweek prepared it just the way he likes it. He didn't have time to make himself a cup of coffee this morning, despite wanting one desperately.

"Thanks, Tweek." Kenny says, stepping back into reality. He says goodbye to the pair just as Tweek nestles himself against Craig, who puts an arm around him without ever looking up from the tv. Kenny tries to ignore the twisting in his gut from the sight of it.

See? He wouldn't feel so shitty about liking Craig if Tweek wasn't so goddamn awesome.

See, the problem with Tweek is that there _are no problems_. The guy is too nice, too considerate, too funny, too sweet- too everything. It's probably why Craig likes him so much; they've officially been together since eighth grade, and they were really close beforehand. One downside to being Craig's roommate is the influx of Tweek in his life, and it's not even that much of a downside. The guy brought him coffee, for Christ sake. Just because. Because he felt like it, because he remembered that Kenny was out until three am last night. Probably because Craig told him. Apparently they talk about Kenny all the time; he's not sure how he feels about that, about them discussing him like he's their kid or something. Craig doesn't like that Kenny sleeps around and parties so much, says that it's dangerous for him to be doing that all the time.

Kenny waves to the guy at the security desk when he steps out of the elevator and walks outside, pulling his brown corduroy jacket closer to him. He probably should have worn more layers, but fuck it. It doesn't take too long to walk to his class… usually. And he doesn't really feel like going back up to his dorm to grab anything right now.

The bright sunlight hits him like a smack in the face and he's reminded of how stupid he is to go out drinking on a school night once again, rummaging in the front of his bag for the little bottle of aspirin he keeps for mornings exactly like this one. He dumps a few pills into the palm of his hand and tips them back with a sip of Tweek's coffee, the warmth branching through his chest. Fuck, it's really good.

Fuck perfect Tweek and his perfect coffee.

Kenny wasn't in a bad mood until Tweek showed up, which makes a whole new wave of guilt wash over him. He knows that Tweek isn't trying to dangle Craig right in front of his face, right out of reach. And it was Kenny's dumbass fault for agreeing to room with him in the first place. Fuck, that was a bad idea. Probably one of the worst ideas in his entire life, and he's not someone who has many good ideas to begin with. He killed himself by lighting a fart on fire when he was a kid, for Christ's sake. Needless to say, he wasn't the brightest bulb of the bunch as a kid; maybe even now. He scrubs a hand over his face tiredly as he walks to class, pushing through the glass doors to the building. Thankfully, his usual seat is open and he walks over to it, sinking down onto the plastic chair and grabbing his laptop from his bag.

Fuck, he needs to distract himself tonight. He doesn't want to go back to the dorm to find Craig and Tweek right in the middle of fucking happily in Craig's bedroom. Or worse, exactly how he left them this morning- smiling and cuddling and happy on the couch together. That's probably the most unpleasant situation, in Kenny's mind. Because, believe it or not, he's not all about sex. He kind of was, for a little while when he was like fourteen or fifteen. But he grew out of it quickly. It got really lonely really fast, and it got him a pretty shitty reputation to boot. For a while no girl in his grade would go out with him because they thought he would just cheat on him anyway, and it got worse when he came out because everyone thought it was all about sex.

It's not.

Thankfully, it was Bebe who broke the streak. She was another person who had a reputation about her. Every boy in their grade thought she was easy and dumb, just because she had awesome tits and blonde hair. But… she was way more than that to Kenny. She was the first person who treated him like HE was a person too, not just a dick and a shitty reputation and a crap home life. They dated all through high school, but split up senior year to go to college. She went to NYU on a full scholarship. She wants to be a neurosurgeon.

Kenny takes a deep breath and leans his head forward on his desk, pressing his cheek against the cool plastic tabletop. He's gotta stop thinking about all of this shit. It's making him homesick, even though he knows how much he hated living in South Park. Even if he were to go back, it wouldn't be the same. No one he actually liked would be there, he'd be stuck in the same shitty situation he was for his whole life, and he's just be even more miserable than he was.

That's a little bit of an exaggeration. Karen would be there, and Kevin, too. Red would be home, because she commutes back and forth from the community college up in Breckenridge. It wouldn't be the same, but… who the hell is he kidding?

Kenny hears someone sit down beside him and he covers his face with his arms, nestling into the fabric in his elbow. Maybe Craig and Tweek will go back to Tweek's dorm across campus. He has a single; Craig said something about it being better for him to be alone, at least for the first semester. Kenny understands a little bit of that sentiment now.

The blonde lifts his head from his desk with a soft groan when he hears his professor's voice from the front of the room, his greeting falling on mostly deaf ears. Class is okay. Kenny ends up sleeping through most of it, battling to stay awake while buried in the warmth of his jacket's sleeve. He's technically there, though, present the whole time. He breathes a sigh of relief when the teacher dismisses class about ten minutes early; now he knows he has time to take a nap before going to practice during free hour, which is an absolute blessing from above.

A whistle from beside him catches him off guard as he's packing his things up, and he raises an eyebrow at the boy who's taken a seat next to him, peering at him from his elbow.

"Jesus Christ, you look like you had quite the night last night." The boy says, tilting his head at Kenny. The light accent on the boy's tongue catches Kenny's attention and he finally sits up, squinting slightly at him. The sunlight from the open window next to them catches his brown eyes in just the right way and Kenny smirks slightly, leaning back in his chair.

"I mean, i don't think i look that bad. Considering the night i had, at least." He answers, drumming his fingers lightly against the desk. The boy gives him a bright smile, combing the sandy brown hair out of his eyes. Kenny gives him another once-over, noticing the hockey jacket he's wearing, the brand new Vans sneakers, and the expensive leather backpack at his feet.

"What kind of night did you have, then?" The guy asks, giving Kenny another bright smile. Kenny gives a light laugh, rubbing a hand through his messy hair.

"That's... a little bit of a story."

"I have time." He answers, laughing. "I'm Dylan, by the way." He says, holding a hand out for a shake. The blonde reaches out to grab it; he's warm and his hand is soft, which is more than Kenny can say for himself.

"Kenny."

He may have just found a wonderful distraction.

They walk out of the room together, Kenny recounting the story of last night and listening to Dylan's pleasant laughter. He learns that Dylan was born and lived in London until he was eleven, when he moved to Denver for his mom's job. Dylan is a sophomore, and he's got a little sister who's a ballet dancer. Kenny tells him about his own siblings as well, about how Karen is skilled in karate and Kevin won the sharp shooting competition for three years in a row. They both like sports, apparently, and it turns out they Dylan does play hockey, as Kenny thought. They part ways when they get to Dylan's dorm, and Kenny's all smiles.

"By the way, some guys on the team are having a party tonight. Since you seem to like them so much." Dylan says, toying with the strap on his backpack. He seemed nervous the whole time he was talking to Kenny, looking over his shoulder and glancing around. Like he didn't want to be seen with him, or like he felt guilty about talking to him. Whatever. Kenny brushes it off. Maybe he just figured out that he liked guys or something- it wouldn't be the first time that Kenny fooled around with someone who was questioning their sexuality. Kenny just grins and nods, telling him that he'll be there.

Awesome. Looks like he's found more than one distraction for the night.


End file.
